Love Has No End
by GinnyBadWolf
Summary: A series of Merthur revealfics. Most are one-shots, some are two-shots, and I might have a few three-shots. Some might be songfics and some might be drabbles. Also, a few might be pre-slash. I'll let you know. R&R, please! Rated T for safety and minor coarse language. ON HIATUS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE
1. True Form

**A/N Hey guys! This is a little plot bunny that just hopped into my head. It's cute, Merthur yay, One-shot, and a Reveal Fic, and I hope you'll like it.**

* * *

Gwaine was where he always was. You guessed it.

The tavern.

Merlin had attempted to rescue him from the ale, because Gwaine was already running up a huge bill, and a knight's wages only go so far. Plus, they were teaching the new recruits tomorrow, and 'Princess' (Or Queen, now) was not going to be pleased if Gwaine had a hangover. Gwaine was practiced enough in the art of alcoholism not to usually get hangovers, but tonight was a big night.

Gwaine's dog's half-birthday. Well, half-adoption day, but Gwaine was determined to enjoy all the ale and mead for his dog Maxwell, and to do so would come with a massive hangover: one even Gwaine could not handle, which was saying something. And even Gaius' hangover medicine had limits.

So, back to Merlin. He was attempting (key word: attempt) to get Gwaine not to spend all the money he had and not to get so drunk he wouldn't be able to stand the next day, but to no avail. So Merlin bitterly walked out of the bar, rubbing his forehead. Gwaine had tried to hug him, but had only achieved knocking his tankard against Merlin's forehead, which Merlin decided was quite enough for one night.

He moved into the back alleyway, leaning against the wall and sighing. Sometimes Gwaine was exhausting. Well, not really sometimes... all the time. Just as he uncrossed his arms and was about to head off the castle to get some rest, he suddenly froze up.

His arms and legs would not budge, try as he might, and it was obviously magic. How else would he be paralyzed like this?

Soon, the magic turned him around to face a cloaked figure lurking in the shadows. He soon was brought into the moonlight, though his face was not revealed. All that could be seen was two golden orbs, burning through the shadows and darkness. His hand was outstretched towards Merlin.

He brought Merlin's immobile body ever closer as he also walked to him until they were about two feet apart. His voice was gravelly and deep. The sorcerer growled, "Emrys. How nice it is to see you."

Merlin could only blink.

"I see that you haven't told your pet King what his 'pathetic' manservant can do. Now, we can't have that, can we? I'm afraid that perhaps you should give up your innocent character, _Emrys._ " The man's hand clenched, and Merlin, in that small time in which the sorcerer lost control of his emotions, tried to move, but the moment was so small and fleeting that it simply looked like a flinch.

"Let's see how much your beloved King likes you when he learns your secret."

The sorcerer raised both hands to chest height and started to chant in the language of the Old Religion. " _ **Cierr**_ _ **æt éow sóþ ansíen..**_ " When he was done, he turned quickly and a gust of wind soon came and whisked him away into the night.

Merlin collapsed to the ground as his body started to tingle, and then sting, and then burn like it was on fire. For a second, he cracked open one eye, in which he could see golden light radiating from every piece of his body. He let out a pained, strangled yell, but it would not be heard over the sound of the loud, raucous tavern. Anyone nearby was accustomed to hearing yells and shouts from there.

Soon, the pain faded, although a burning sensation could be felt behind his eyes. He staggered to his feet and set off for the castle again, hoping to avoid being seen.

* * *

Arthur was mad.

Livid, in fact. Today was the day that he would be teaching the new knights and overseeing their training, and he expected no less than the best from everyone.

Gwaine had an unimaginably terrible hangover. It was a wonder that he had even rolled out of bed that morning, let alone get dressed and attend a practice. And now he was setting a bad example for the younger knights, as well! A knight should not be getting drunk the day before a big training session.

But Arthur was not in good shape, either. Merlin had not shown up that morning to wake him up, or give him breakfast, or pick out his clothes, or dress him, which meant that there was a sleepy, hungry, cold, and very, very late King that day. To say that he was grumpy was an understatement.

Nevertheless, the training session went by quickly, and Arthur soon went up to his chambers and awaited lunch. Needless to say, there was no Merlin arriving with lunch. Instead, a random maidservant timidly knocked on Arthur's door before she came in, set down his lunch tray, and hurried away from him at a surprisingly high speed.

Arthur was not happy then, either. He shoveled in his lunch and headed up to Merlin's chambers, where he was expecting to see Merlin still asleep, or maybe having a hangover from possibly joining Gwaine last night at the tavern? Knowing the idiot, that was probably what he had done. Arthur smiled, though, thinking about Merlin. Sometimes he got himself into so much trouble, it was a wonder he was still alive. Arthur would be the one to keep him alive, then, because he just wouldn't let Merlin get himself into trouble and have something happen to him. That wasn't allowed.

Arthur entered Gaius' chambers. Gaius was currently away, caring for the carpenter who had fallen ill last night. So Arthur strode through the chambers to Merlin's room in the back, where he tried to barge in before realizing that there was a chair pushed up hastily against the door. Arthur took on an exasperated expression.

" _Mer_ lin. What have you done this time, broken one of Mary's favorite pots? You really think she would follow you up here, you girl?" There was no response, but from peering through the cracks in the door, Arthur could see Merlin sitting on the bed with his head in his hands and his back turned to the entrance.

" _Mer_ lin." Arthur said again, feeling a little concerned.

It could barely be heard, but a dejected "Don't come in." came from the figure on the bed.

"What? Accidentally broke your favorite hairbrush? Rip a dress?" Arthur teased, hoping to get a chuckle out of Merlin or at least get him to turn his head.

Merlin muttered again, "It's not funny, Arthur. Do _not_ come in."

Arthur decided to push all the banter aside for the moment; it didn't seem like Merlin was in the mood. "Seriously, Merlin. What's wrong?" Merlin didn't turn or move.

"A sorcerer cursed me." Arthur held in a gasp.

"Well, what was the curse?" Merlin sighed.

"He - he made my physical form take my true form." Arthur furrowed his brow.

"What?"

"Basically, I look like what my soul is. I have taken the form of my personality." Many things of what Merlin could look like ran through Arthur's head: maybe he looked disfigured? Like a child? A _girl?_ Or maybe he had the face of a cat, or a tail, or maybe bear paws, or something strange like that...

Arthur sighed as well. "Well, let me in, then."

What he heard was much colder and much angrier than he thought the response would be. " **No.** _Do not look at me._ "

Arthur shook his head, and started banging against the door. Merlin lifted his head, but didn't turn. His voice shook with anger and - was that fear? "Don't come in, Arthur!" He also sounded a little hysterical.

Arthur laughed and said, "No, I'm coming in. It can't be that bad, can it?"

Merlin made a bitter scowl that Arthur could not see, but he gave in.

"Fine. But please, please, please do not hate me for what you see."

Arthur was a bit bewildered. What could he possibly see that could make Arthur hate him? Merlin was simple and care-free. Whatever he looked like couldn't be that bad, could it?

Merlin approached the door, his head down, and shifted the chair to this side before going back to his bed and facing the wall again.

Arthur opened the door and entered the room, looking at Merlin and sitting down. From what he could see, Merlin looked just as he always did. Arthur took the chair beside his bed.

Arthur said, "Merlin, I don't understand. You look just as you always do, what's for me to hate?" Merlin turned his face to him, eyes closed. He looked the same, still.

"Why are your eyes clo-" But Arthur never finished the sentence, because Merlin's eyes snapped open.

Merlin's eyes burned the brightest gold possible. They were ever-moving, with small swirls of bronze and fiery golden waves crashing and swimming around in his eyes. They shined brighter and purer than anything Arthur had ever seen, and he recognized the way they flashed.

"You're - you're a - a sorcerer!" Arthur shot up, knocking the small wooden chair over. "You have magic!" Merlin looked momentarily terrified.

"Arthur, I - I've never used it for evil. I've only used it for you, Arthur. Only for you." Arthur said nothing, but his mouth hung open in shock.

"You - you lied to me. Have you been lying to me ever since we've met?" Arthur's tone was cold, harsh, hurt, and screamed _How could you do this to me? I thought we were friends!_

Merlin's eyes watered, and he looked down as one golden tear made its way down his cheek. "I - I've had it since I was born, Sire. I could use magic before I could speak. I am, uh, the most powerful warlock of all time." He looked up at Arthur and gave a sheepish smile.

Arthur was scandalized. "You - you - leave." Merlin's mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but another bright golden tear fell, and he started to leave his own bedroom.

He turned back to Arthur. "You know, I thought you cared. I thought it wouldn't matter to you that I used magic because I couldn't help it. I thought it wouldn't matter to you because I've only ever used it for you, and for Camelot, and for my friends. I thought it wouldn't matter to you because I thought.. I thought that what we had was stronger than that." And he once again started to walk towards the door.

Arthur was stricken as he stared at Merin's receding back. The boy was exceedingly loyal, and brave, and kind. Arthur, well, he... he had thought that Merlin was the best man he knew. If Merlin was evil, then everyone else must be evil, too, for Merlin was the most loyal out of all of his subjects. Perhaps... perhaps magic wasn't evil. Perhaps magic did not corrupt. Perhaps it was the men who wielded it for evil who were the ones who were evil, and not the magic itself. And perhaps what Merlin said was true.

Arthur grabbed Merlin's wrist. "No, I'm sorry. What we have _is_ stronger than that. Maybe... maybe magic isn't so bad after all." Merlin gave a weak smile as his golden eyes almost roared in approval. The golden light increased tenfold, and the tears that he gave were swirling with light and golden dust.

Arthur's grip loosened, and slipped down to Merlin's hand. Merlin watched as Arthur laced his fingers between Merlin's own, and then he looked up with a smile. "What we have... it's strong." Merlin nodded a bit as Arthur leaned in for a kiss.


	2. Sunrise

**And here is the start of my Merthur oneshot series! A majority of them will be one-shots, but some might even be two or three-shots. All of them will be Merthur, some of them are pre-slash, and some might be songfics or drabbles. Also, all of them are reveal-fics whether you like it or not, and they are all (mostly) different, so be prepared for the onslaught of feels.**

 **Disclaimer: It's probably a good thing that I don't own Merlin.**

* * *

Merlin sat, shoulders hunched, on the wall of the highest tower. Nobody knew that he was there, but it didn't matter. All that he was doing was sitting and watching the sunrise. It was beautiful: orange and purple and pink and dark purple and yellow. It was tempting to slow down time and savor the moment, but Merlin was tired of it.

He was tired of the magic and the fighting, the secrets and the lies, the death and the loss, the blood and the tears. It was becoming too much to bear alone, so much darkness carried upon one man's shoulders that it threatened to fall off his shoulders and envelop him entirely.

He was tired of carrying the darkness, he was tired of the secrets, he was tired, he was tired of lying to Arthur, he was tired of pretending to be an idiot around Arthur, he was tired, he was tired of pretending Arthur was just his King, he was tired, he was tired, he was tired of the sadness, he was tired, he was tired, he was tired.

He would never take his own life, but at this beautiful moment, his broken soul yearned to feel something besides sadness. All the darkness might not have taken him, but it crushed him, crushed the innocent and naive boy into a weary and hardened man. He felt tired, and could not bring himself to move off the wall, but only to look down the long way.

It was just not fair to Merlin to have to pretend that Arthur didn't mean anything more than a King, let alone a friend, to have to pretend even to Arthur himself. It was unfair to have to pretend to be a useless idiot when he had saved everyone more times than he could count. He didn't want credit, he just wanted to be happy. And when you pretend that you are happy, to paste a smile on your face, all it does is make the frown seem more real. It breaks you inside, and so Merlin was shattered.

The sun was halfway above the horizon now, and the sky had turned more pink and yellow than purple. By this time, George or someone would have already woken Arthur up for a training session even though Merlin should have been there to wake him up and pretend again, but Merlin didn't really care. He sighed. He would have to leave, and soon, but it was tempting just to stay there and let Arthur fend for himself for one day. Just one day for himself, that was all he had wished for for one second, just one had gone by with him wishing for some time for himself, and the gods saw fit to dash those hopes before Merlin could even think with an obnoxious shout of " _Mer_ lin!"

Merlin sighed again, and stayed silent. "Where the _hell_ is that useless idi- Merlin!" Arthur's annoying rant turned into a frantic shout, and he desperately ran to where Merlin sat, staring ahead blankly. It occurred to Merlin that to a bystander, it looked like he might get up and jump off the wall. He didn't care. Then, Arthur spoke. "Merlin, what are you doing? Get down from there!" He voice cracked on 'down'.

Merlin didn't turn to look at him. He just continued to stare ahead, but he did reply. "No." The word echoed around the grounds. It sounded empty, hollow, and broken even to Merlin's own ears. Arthur's shoulders fell, and he spoke up again.

"Why? What - what are you doing up here?" If you listened closely, Arthur's voice sounded a little thicker than before. "Please, Merlin."

After a little while, Merlin responded. "I"m tired. I'm tired of everything." His voice took on a bitter note. Arthur looked around, and then hopped up to join Merlin on the wall. He stayed silent for a second, and then:

"What is it that you could be tired of, mucking the stables?" Merlin knew it was a last-ditch attempt at creating a normal conversation, and that Arthur had chosen to say that instead of something more meaningful. Why, though? Was Arthur scared of expressing his feelings? Ashamed? And though Merlin knew Arthur cared, he couldn't help the hurt expression from coming onto his face. After a quick glance, Arthur realized he had made a mistake and said: "I'm sorry." Anybody could tell he meant it.

Merlin sighed. "I'm tired of pretending. I'm pretending now, I've pretended before, I've pretended the very second I first took a breath in this world. I'm not what I say I am, I'm not what I look like, and I'm not what I act like. I-I'm not who I say I am. And the real me doesn't deserve to have a home, or friends, or - or any of this." Merlin's voice became thick as well. "I've done bad things - bad things that shouldn't have had to have been done. Make no mistake, I've done good, a lot more good than bad, but I've done so much bad and seen so much bad that I couldn't change, and it's crushing me Arthur, it's crushing me."

Arthur looked confused, but only said, "Why?" Merlin stretched, and turned away from Arthur.

"Being an all-powerful warlock protecting the King who doesn't know said warlock has such copious amounts of magic is a hard job." At this, Arthur laughed.

"You? A sorcerer? Please, stop joking and come back down to the training grounds, I haven't got time for this." Arthur turned and slid back onto the ground, but Merlin stood up and faced towards Arthur, who had just started to walk away. Arthur stopped and looked back, and watched, horrified, as Merlin looked him in the eyes and fell off the wall. For the second time that day, Arthur screamed, " _Merlin!"_ He rushed to the edge of the wall and watched as Merlin plummeted to the ground at a high speed. He was completely still, his back still to the ground, before lazily flicking his hand in the air and slowing his fall by causing the wind to violently blow upwards beneath him.

With another flick (and now, as Arthur could see) a flash of golden eyes, he came to a complete stop before rising back up to face a speechless King of Camelot. He rose until his feet were level with Arthur's head, and he stood up. He was standing quite steadily on absolutely nothing, his eyes burning a brilliant gold.

Arthur, eyes wide and mouth hanging open, slowly inclined his head to stare into Merlin's eyes. He saw a pure, almost natural-looking gold that shone bright like the rising sun. Merlin's gaze averted down, and for the first time in a long time, he cried. He cried two tears, tears that were carefully woven with gold, before walking on the air back to the wall and sitting back down with his head in his hands.

He started to speak again without looking up. "I'm the most powerful warlock of all time, Arthur." He said, with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Arthur, who had been pointedly staring at the ground, brought his gaze up to Merlin. He looked at his broken, perfect Merlin, and in a shuddering and bitter voice he muttered, "You lied to me." Merlin didn't look up. In an ever-rising voice, Arthur continued. "You lied. I thought you cared about Camelot, about us, about me!" At this Merlin did look up, angry.

"Oh I care, Arthur. I care just as much as you do. It is my destiny to protect Albion and its people, to protect you! You are the Once and Future King and I'm Emrys!" Arthur stepped back, the anger shocked off his face.

"I-I'm the Once and Future King?" He asked shakily. "And you're - you're Emrys?" Merlin nodded, his expression a bit less angry and sad. "That's - that's - wow! Oh my -" Arthur put his hands in his hair and laughed. "Geoffrey has told me the stories - we're to unite Albion, then - and you're - you're Emrys! Loyal to Camelot, loyal to me!" He laughed again, and then his expression became a bit stern. "You're going to have to tell me everything, but - wow!"

Merlin cracked a small smile, and let the happiness fill him up, like cider. It bubbled up inside of him, lifting the darkness up and off his shoulders, banishing the sadness and the misery until all that was left was glee. Arthur - Arthur accepted him and his powers! Arthur loved him for who he was, even though he truly knew who Merlin was! He couldn't contain his signature toothy grin that felt real for the first time in a long while. It spread across his face until it couldn't spread any wider.

He thought everything was the best it could be, but that thought changed when Arthur quickly came in and enveloped him in a hug as fast as he could. As Arthur hugged him tight, it occurred to Merlin that it wasn't forced or half-hearted, but real and happy and... and loving. Merlin's heart pounded as Arthur pulled back to look at him, before a determined look came over his face and he quickly leaned in and pressed his mouth against Merlin's.

Their hands unwrapped themselves from each other's backs and Merlin put his hands on Arthur's neck, and Arthur put his on the back of Merlin's head and pulled him closer. Eventually, they came apart before hugging again. Arthur sat back on the wall,and then Merlin followed. They sat, their fingers lightly wrapped around each other's, watching the sun as it broke through the horizon and began its daily cycle. They waited like that for a while before Arthur broke the silence.

"Don't scare me like that again, Merlin. I can't lose you."


	3. Goodbye

**Hey! This is one of my sadder fics, so if you get really feels-y about this, grab a tissue box. Anyway, here is the essential information on the fic.**

 **Pairings: Merthur, pre-slash but getting pretty close**

 **Length: One-shot**

 **Characters: Mostly Arthur, Merlin, Lancelot, and the rest of the knights**

 **Summary: Arthur and his knights go out to collect the bodies of the hostages from Cenred's kidnapping plan, but something that happens leaves everyone in the group grieving.**

 **Disclaimer: Merlin isn't mine. I would do something funny for the disclaimer, but with this fic I just can't. *runs away crying***

* * *

It had started out as a patrol. As it always did. Cenred's men had threatened to kill the hostages, some commoners from the lower town. Cenred had obviously expected Arthur to go and rescue them, but Uther had forbidden Arthur to go put himself in danger for the innocents, the people who didn't deserve to die. And now? Because of Uther's cruelty, Arthur was left patrolling the area that Cenred had left the twenty-something hostages, looking for survivors (of which there were none).

It was grim work, something that shouldn't have had to have been done. Arthur glanced up for a second, shooting Lancelot a sad look. The expression spread to the faces of Gwaine, Elyan, Leon, and Percival. So many innocents dead, denied their freedom and their right to live by their own king. Killed because Arthur had failed to sneak away and save them. With grim determination, Arthur knew that things would be different when he was King. His citizens would feel safe in their own kingdom, their children happy and healthy, and his own friends would be protect-ed... who was that in the jacket?

Nobody had turned them over yet. Arthur headed over a couple of feet to the body in the brown jacket, knelt down, and turned him over, and... oh gods, no. No! A painfully familiar ebony face with black hair and blue eyes that was drooping closed was staring back up at him. No! Merlin! Arthur kept holding him, frantic, looking for signs of life, before realizing that he had shouted Merlin's name aloud. All the knights dropped what they were doing and sprinted to where Arthur sat, holding the body of his best friend.

There was total silence for a second, before a shuddering "No," came from Gwaine. "This - this can't be... this can't be real..." Lancelot had long since dropped to Merlin's side, holding his wrist and searching desperately for a pulse. Leon, Percival, Elyan, and Gwaine soon joined him, checking his neck and chest or putting their ear to his stomach to see if he was breathing, or simply holding his hand. Arthur moved from holding Merlin's shoulders and went to his head. He held Merlin's face, and pressed their foreheads together. "Stay with me," he whispered.

Lancelot looked up and yelled, "He's got a pulse!" Arthur stared at Merlin's face, whispering again, "Stay - with - me, Merlin. Please." All was quiet for a moment, before a small, rasping breath filled the silence. Everyone's head snapped towards Merlin's face, where two eyelids were fluttering dully.

"Merlin!" Leon cried, relieved. "You're alive!" Merlin smiled sadly and replied softly, "Not for long, I'm afraid." All drew back for a second. Merlin tilted his head a millimeter towards Lancelot, giving a grunt of pain at the movement. "Lancelot - thank you - for being such - a great friend. Once - I'm gone - tell everyone my - my story. Please." Lancelot nodded grimly, but the others looked confused.

Merlin turned again to Gwaine, giving another small groan. "Live a - good life, Gwaine. It's -" he grunted - "What I - would want." Gwaine nodded, but his eyes looked lost. Then, he addressed Leon, Elyan, and Percival. "K-keep Arthur safe for me, will - you? And - and live good lives. It's - the least you - deserve." They nodded as well. "And all of you - t-tell my mother, Gwen, and Gaius goodbye for me, and tell them that I l-love them." Tears glistened in everyone's eyes as they nodded slowly. Arthur felt a growing sense of dread as Merlin finally tilted his head in his direction and began to speak.

"Remember this, Arthur. Everything I've done here has been for you - and - for - Camelot. You are my best friend and I'd never - hurt - you. And don't trust Morgana: she - isn't who - you think she is. But do me a favor, please. W-when you are King - bring magic back - to Camelot. I know you - will be a - good King, too. I just wish I - could've - been there to see - it." Merlin took a shuddering gasp. "My - my time is - almost - up. Goodbye, Arthur, I - Arthur, I love..." Merlin's voice trailed off, and letting out a final sigh, he shut his eyes. He did not open them again.

Arthur drew back, unsure of what to do with himself. He gazed at his best friend, almost disbelieving. "Merlin?" He whispered. "Merlin?" he said again, louder this time. Everyone's faces were full of shock. "Merlin!" he screamed. "Come back!" he yelled, his voice cracking. Arthur fell to the ground, his cheek touching the dirt. His dirty and now tear-streaked face was face Merlin's pale, blank face. "Come back." He cried weakly. Gwaine's eyes were now filled with tears as well, and he leaned over Merlin's chest, dry and raking sobs heaving his body up and down.

Arthur started to tremble, vibrating without control. His breathing became quick and shallow as he frantically looked over Merlin's body. He drew himself closer to Merlin, now panicking. "Please. Please!" He rasped, his shallow breathing sounding more like sobs. Arthur laid his hand on top of Merlin's, shaking all the while. "Merlin!" He screamed towards the sky.

Lancelot was crying now as well, his shaking hands raking through his hair. Percival was still on his knees, tears falling slowly down his face but unmoving. Elyan had his head in his hands and was curled up into a ball, completely silent. Leon was holding onto Merlin's wrist, shocked and breaking. But it was nothing compared to Arthur.

He was shattered into a million pieces, and it took everything that was left of him not to cry out in agony. He put one of his hands on the small of Merlin's back, and the other on the back of his head, and sat up as he hugged Merlin's cold body to his chest and sobbed. Forget - he forgot all he knew, all except for Merlin, his dead Merlin, his perfect Merlin, and he rocked back and forth with his best friend, his _dead_ best friend in his arms. How could he have been so stupid?

How could he not have known something was wrong when Merlin had gone missing?

Why?

Why had he let his father sign off so many innocents, including the man he cared about more than he could say?

Why?

Arthur released it, crying out. The noise hurt his throat, but he did not care in the slightest. He was vaguely aware of the others at his side, crying as well, and then them gently taking Merlin from him dragging the two of them apart putting Merlin on a cart for the dead covering him with a white cloth placing Arthur on a horse in front but Arthur jumped off the horse ripped the sheet off Merlin picked him up walked back to Camelot holding Merlin bridal style, his dead Merlin.

He walked all night, with the others dragging the cart behind.

* * *

The morning was gray and dark. Their arrival in Camelot was soon after the sun had risen, but it was no better than the night. The gates were opened, where many were in the market or waiting to see what had become of their loved ones kidnapped. But upon seeing the blank, grieving face of the Crown Prince and the man many had come to know as Merlin, kind, generous, brave Merlin, dead in his arms, the crowd parted quickly without coming to the cart.

As soon as they reached the castle, Gwen came out to greet them, racing down the steps. She wasn't smiling, but she was glad to see them until she saw who was in Arthur's arms. She squinted, slowing her run, and raised a hand to her mouth, and then ran down to the faster, gasping as she arrived at the foot of the stairs. She looked up at Arthur, who had stopped walking and looked empty. "What happened?" She breathed, but Arthur shook his head and looked down, starting to cry again. The only other answer were the hard, ashen, and tear-streaked faces of the Knights.

Gwen put a hand to her mouth again, and looked down as tears began to make their way down her face. Arthur looked at her and numbly murmured, "Merlin said that he loves you and... and goodbye." His voice cracked on 'goodbye'. Gwen nodded, knowing what Merlin meant, and let out a sob as she went to her knees. Arthur followed, laying him down gently onto the cobblestones. He let out another sob as well. "Merlin - was the best - the best man I ever knew." Gwen looked up at him, the tears falling. "I'll - I'll miss - h-h-im." He had never sounded so vulnerable. Finally, he gave in and collapsed to the ground in front of Merlin, sobbing and raking his hands through his hair. He struck his fist hard on the ground, causing it to break open and bleed, but he gave it no attention.

Gwen cried silently, her breaths short and shuddering. They mourned for a while, just crying, as the Knights joined them and cried as well for the man they had lost: the funny, clumsy little brother for whom they had all had much affection; the sweet, caring, generous giver who always put others before himself; the wise, level-headed, strong-willed advisor who never failed to tell Arthur what he thought; the selfless, strong, brave man... Merlin.

It was a long while before any of them shakily stood up and went to tell Gaius the bad news.

* * *

Two days. That was how long it had been since Merlin had died. And in the one and half days Arthur had been home, he had barely left his room. He sat in his chair, refusing to do anything but stare at the person across from him who would sit and cry with him. And now, he was in that chair, waiting as Lancelot attempted to put himself back together enough so that he could tell everyone else Merlin's story.

After a few minutes, Lancelot was finally able to say, "Merlin - he wasn't exactly who you thought he was. H-he was the bravest of us all and none of even knew. He had a big secret, s-something that made him extraordinary when he looked ordinary. M-Merlin was... he was the most powerful sorcerer of all time."

Arthur blinked. "What?"

"They called him Emrys. He - he was born with magic because he was destined to protect you and Camelot." Arthur had his head in his hands. Merlin's mysterious last words to him made so much more sense now.

Gwaine blanched. "Merlin?"

Lancelot nodded. "I only knew because of an accident. But he did ask me to tell you his story, because he told me of everything he did. And it is quite a long story, so I'll s-see what I remember." And with that, Lancelot started off before any of his shell-shocked friends could interrupt. It _was_ a long story, so Lancelot didn't remember perfectly, but he got in all of the important details. Nobody uttered a word throughout the entire thing, but Arthur could not stop his quiet tears from falling.

How many times had Merlin felt pain like this, the terrible pain of feeling like a whole part of your world was missing, with nobody else to shoulder it? And how many times had that pain been of his own doing? All he could do was keep his head in his hands and listen to the great and terrible story of his brave Merlin. And once he had heard it all, he could not bring himself to hate this one so very magical being - he could only love him more.

The others sat in their chairs, quietly asking Lancelot questions when something suddenly occurred to Arthur. "Wait." Arthur's voice was shaky. "Why do they call him Emrys? What does Emrys mean?" Arthur looked around helplessly as everyone shrugged. "Anyone know?"

Leon stared at everyone else expectantly, and then sighed before guiltily turning to Arthur and fixing him with a sympathetic stare. "Arthur, you have to let it go. It'll only make it harder. You have to let - Merlin -" He said his name tentatively - "Go." Unable to speak, overtaken by a wave of emotion, Arthur only shook his head. How could he let go? How could he let go of - god dammit - the man he loved?

Lancelot made a move to leave. Arthur looked up confusedly at him, and said, "Where are you going?" Lancelot looked at him kindly, and replied, "To Gaius. He'll have answers." Before anyone could object, Arthur joined him and they were out the door. It was a silent walk, just racing to get answers. Arthur pointedly ignored the pitying and confused glances he received from servants and guards passing: he knew he had not been in the public eye since... the incident, but it didn't matter that people were staring. There was no stopping him... but apparently there was delaying him.

A few guards grabbed his arm and half-dragged him, despite his protests, to the throne room, where he was quickly shoved inside and the doors locked behind him. His father stood by the throne, looking angry, but there were traces of worry and curiosity. Uther made a small step forward and asked, "Why did you not report to me as soon as you arrived? It is unlike you to forget such an important matter such as this." Once finished, he strode forward, carefully observing his son's blank, miserable features.

Arthur answered him in a hollow voice. "One of those who was kidnapped by Cenred was my best friend. He... he died in my arms." Uther did not seemed concerned that Arthur's best friend had died, but was a bit fazed by the fact that he had a best friend.

"Best friend? One of the Knights?" Uther pronounced incredulously. Arthur shook his head.

"My - my servant, Merlin." Uther, upon hearing this, shook his head and put his hands to his temples.

"A servant?" Arthur turned away. "You can't have the people see you befriending mere servants. It is probably for the best that he is dead, now." Arthur looked back at his father with a mutinous expression on his face and stomped closer to where Uther stood.

"Merlin was the best and bravest man I ever knew. He saved my life so many times, so, so many times, but never asked for recognition. He was kind, and funny, and treated me like a friend, which I needed badly when I first met him! Merlin was wise, and smart, and only ever wanted the best for Camelot! He has even saved you, and all of Camelot many times over! Merlin deserves to be honored in death the way he wasn't in life, because it's the best I can do for him now." His voice cracked at the end.

Uther looked shocked, but he soon covered his expression with his mask and turned away angrily and said, "Give him a hero's funeral if you want, anything to make you drop this matter." Arthur scowled and banged on the door until the guard let him out, and then stalked down the hallway to where Lancelot stood waiting.

"You alright?" Arthur nodded, and they continued on their way. When they arrived at the physician's quarters, Arthur knocked, but there was no reply. He knocked again after a minute, and when yet again there was no reply, he opened the door and entered. The room seemed to be untouched, as if no work had been done the past few days. Gaius was sitting on his bed, facing the window. As Arthur approached, Gaius did not move.

Arthur and Lancelot sat across from the old man who looked as if he had aged ten years in the short amount of time it had been since they had last seen him. They stayed silent for a moment before Lancelot piped up. "What did the name Emrys mean?" If Gaius looked surprised at the question, he did not show it.

"I do not know what Emrys means, only that it was one of Merlin's names. If you want to know, look through the books of the Old Religion in the library, the ones Uther did not find. Perhaps they could give you some information. For now, please leave me be."

Arthur and Lancelot nodded sadly, heading to the library after thanking Gaius. Geoffrey seemed very surprised that the two men were there, and was further shocked when asked for some certain books. After a couple minutes of hasty questions and answers, they were led to an area in some distant part of the library and left there to sort through a variety of old tomes and volumes full of things they didn't understand.

After three hours of searching, Gwaine joined them, asking a multitude of questions. "Why are you doing this?" Arthur ignored him and kept flipping through the dusty pages. "Why are you so curious about the meaning of Emrys?" Arthur closed his eyes for a second and kept reading. "Maybe you should just -" but Arthur shut his book loudly and gave Gwaine a pained expression.

"I'm doing this because I know nothing about Merlin and his life. I never asked about Merlin or showed any interest in his personal life. I never gave him a good reason to trust me with his secret, so now I feel like if I learn more about him and discover everything he did for us and what he was to the world, I can at least honor his memory." And with that, he opened his book back up to a new page, leaving Gwaine and Lancelot lost for words.

They read until the early morning, with the candles they had re-lit over and over again burning low. But their effort was fruitless: they hardly knew anything more than when they had started. Arthur was about to give up when a voice behind him spoke up. "For future reference, Emrys means immortal." And with hope filling the hole in his chest, Arthur turned and saw the person whom he cared about more than anything, the one he had lost. Merlin.

Arthur knocked his chair over and ran to Merlin, throwing his arms around his and burying his head in Merlin's shoulder, smiling and sobbing at the same time. "Merlin," he whispered. "I love you too."


	4. I Love You Isn't Enough

Merlin and Arthur are entwined by Destiny, like two hands wrapping their fingers together. They don't love each other.

They are together in all respects, but it is so unrespectful towards the world, and towards Destiny and towards what is goddamn appropriate that they aren't really together at all. Because, really, the world has never shown any respect to them, so why bother?

But Arthur would always be fascinated by Merlin, because Merlin is just so _different._ A young man with pale skin, dark hair, blue eyes, and a personality that is a mystery wrapped in an enigma - Merlin is an adventure, and Arthur could never resist an adventure. But he would never say he loves Merlin.

Merlin would always be entranced by Arthur - by the way his hair glinted in the sun, by the way his angelic blue eyes, by the way he fought for what he thought was right every time. But he would never say he loves Arthur.

'I Love You' would never be enough.

The way they feel could never be encompassed by a word, a definition - it is so much larger than that, millions of times larger. The way they feel is something that floats in the sky, the heavens, through time and space, and it could not ever be captured and tied down to the ground by a word, 'love'. No bard, no poet, no scribe, could ever write down exactly what it is, never. Neither could Merlin or Arthur.

Because they would never say 'I Love You' - it isn't what it is, how they are. Arthur will never kiss Merlin. Merlin will never hold hands with Arthur. They will never fall in love, because what they have isn't love. 'Love' is no more than a shadow compared to the things passed between the lingering glances.

Arthur and Merlin never realize it, not ever, but it is always there. They will be bound to each other through Destiny, and then through friendship, and then through something that is so deep its echoes reverberate throughout the stars, the heavens, the universe. It will never leave them, even as time passes beyond the two.

And they will spend their lives in something deeper than love, being together but not together, and the things they do together are recorded in the history books, but books have words and words do not have the things Merlin and Arthur have together.

Even if it is skinny (not skinny 'love', mind you), they are forever. From the way they look at each other with feelings in their eyes, saying things they will never say, from the way they defend each other to the ends of the earth, from the way they need each other.

Even at the last moment, they never say 'I Love You', because it doesn't encompass the way their forever lasts throughout all of the universe.

It doesn't need to be said, anyway.


End file.
